Located in the northern part of Irvine, the Orchard Hills neighborhood is Irvine’s most famous high-end residential community, surrounded by large swathes of lush green avocado orchards. The unique terrain and natural scenery, combined with the European-style architecture of the houses, allow one to enjoy modern urban living while also possessing the serene and pleasant quality of life of an idyllic town, as if in a paradise. In the southwest part of the Orchard Hills neighborhood, a European-style villa stands particularly quiet and warm under the sunlight, with a garden behind the white-painted picket gate, laid with verdant lawns, as if one has stepped into a fairy tale world. In the yard on a white swing, sits a young man. He wears simple white T-shirt and black pants, which accentuate his tall and graceful figure, especially his long legs, dangling from the swing to the lawn, strikingly lean. Underneath his slightly short hair is a delicate face, his skin as pale and tender as that of a woman, but those slightly sharp eyebrows dilute the effeminacy, his narrow eyes remind one of a cunning fox, yet his clear and clean pupils give him an appearance of childlike innocence. On him, there is a mix of contradictory qualities that make him seem full of mystery. The young man’s eyes keep gazing at the gate, as if waiting for something, the sunlight filtering through the gaps in the branches, gradually, beads of sweat emerge on his forehead, but he remains stubborn, still fixating on the gate. "Miaomiao, it’s too sunny outside, come in and wait," said Qin Du, who was wearing an apron as he came out of the house, his handsome and elegant features tinged with concern. The young man shook his head and sat without moving. Qin Du sighed; Miaomiao was too stubborn. He wouldn’t be content until Yun Ya arrived. His gaze turned toward the gate, a gentle smile crossing the depths of his eyes as he thought of the soup stewing on the stove and quickly returned inside the house. As the sun began to slope westward and the glow of twilight bathed the quiet courtyard in golden light, a slender figure in black slowly appeared. The young man’s eyes brightened as he leaped off the swing and ran towards the newcomer. Yun Ya halted her steps and watched the young man running towards her, her eyes warming with a tender smile. Standing in front of her, his forehead and the tip of his nose were covered in sweat, but his clear eyes looked at her with joy, brighter than the splendid twilight behind him. Yun Ya took out a handkerchief and wiped his sweat, "Look at you, running so fast. It’s not like I’m not coming back." The young man grinned, his eyes unwaveringly fixed on Yun Ya’s face, as if fearing that if he blinked, she might disappear. He walked over and took Yun Ya’s hand, holding it tightly, then pulled her along as he ran, the wind lifting the hair on his forehead, his eyes filled with a child-like intense joy. Yun Ya said nothing, just followed him in a run, through the living room and "thump thump thump" up to the second floor. Qin Du poked his head out of the kitchen and saw the two figures, shaking his head with a chuckle. So grown up, yet still as mischievous as children. "Come down for dinner later," he called out loudly. "Okay," came the girl’s clear voice from upstairs. Yun Miao pulled her into his room, which was tidy and clean. On the windowsill sat a flower pot the size of a bowl, barren with nothing grown. Yun Ya knew that this was the Yimi Flower seed that Brother Ah Du brought back from his adventure in Africa. The flower was said to grow in the desert, waiting a long time for its bloom, its petals gathering the world’s most beautiful colors, as if to monopolize all the world’s most brilliant hues, yet the moment of blooming meant the end of its life. Brother Ah Du had given the seed to Miaomiao, hoping he would maintain the tenacious willpower to press forward in the face of difficulties and setbacks, just like the Yimi Flower. Miaomiao cared for it meticulously every day, yet it never sprouted. Miaomiao did not become discouraged, still watering and fertilizing it daily, believing that one day it would bloom. Yun Ya didn’t want to shatter his confidence; the Yimi Flower was never going to bloom—it belonged only to the desert... As Yun Ya was lost in thought, Miaomiao handed her a notebook and flipped it open for her to see, its pages filled edge to edge with complex mathematical equations, dizzying to the viewer. Yun Ya looked through the pages, Miaomiao’s mind had been damaged, forever stuck at the age of four, but Miaomiao at four was already quite smart, far surpassing peers by a great margin. She then began to develop his intellect specifically, and now it seemed, the effort was significant; he could easily tackle the most challenging college-level calculus problems. Googlᴇ search NoveIꜰire.net